Hey guys! So, I've been looking forward to writing this chapter for a very long time. This is pure Mac whump and fatherly Jack. I just love sick Mac stories no matter what kind they are and I think that a sick baby Mac chapter would be an amazing little filler as the last chapter before things get real. Anyway, here it is!
Previously:
"Hush Jack," she shushed before turning back to the toddler still in her arms. "Have ya ever had peach cobbler bubba?" she asked before carrying him off towards the kitchen. Jack smiled; his mama would make sure Mac ate good.
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Jack woke up and viewed the clock: 2:34 AM. He groaned and pinched his nose momentarily before the pressure from the remnants of his nasal congestion made themselves known. He had just gotten over a bad cold with most of the symptoms gone, but the stuffiness had decided to stick around and torment him for a few days.
Everyone that he knew was getting sick. Most of the team had been out at some point or another with the flu, even Matty herself, and his own family was no exception. Diane had to pick Riley up from school about two weeks prior when she had thrown up in the nurse's office. She was now back to 100%, but that didn't mean it made it any easier to see your child ill. Diane had gone next, waking up with fever one morning and calling off work for two days in a row. She had said it didn't surprise her. Even if she had gotten the flu shot, she was still constantly around sick kids, and it was flu season after all.
That had been less than a week ago. Jack had thankfully only gotten a cold with no fever or throwing up, but that didn't mean that he wasn't miserable. How could he not be when it felt like his brain was trying to pound out of his sinuses? Now, Diane was off at a medical conference in New York that he hadn't even been sure she would be able to attend with her illness. In the end though, she had fought him tooth and nail and eventually, he surrendered.
That left him home alone with both kids. If an op happened to crop up, Diane's parents would have to drive down to watch them while he was away, but so far, nothing had. He was both happy and exhausted with the fact that he had both kids to look over. Happy, because he got to spend quality time with both of his kids. Exhausted, because with Riley's boundless energy and Mac's infinite curiosity, he definitely had his hands full.
But he was now supposed to be having a boy's weekend with Mac. Sam's family had taken Riley to their beach house to celebrate her belated eighth birthday and she wouldn't be back for two days. Mac had been so excited to find out that it was just going to be the two of them that Jack had had a hard time getting him settled down enough to go to bed. Jack was excited too, though. It wasn't often that he got to spend quality time with just one member of his family, and he was grateful for the chances whenever they came.
Mac, knock on wood, had evaded any illness. They were all glad for it too because it had been hard enough seeing him sick after the heatstroke but seeing it again would be ten times worse. Jack just hoped the little guy had built up a better immune system since then.
Suddenly, a thought crossed his mind. What had woken him up? It hadn't been a nightmare, he definitely knew what those were like, so what could it have been? He strained his ears but heard nothing. Mac and Archie were the only ones in the house, and it wasn't like Mac could get out of bed without making noise, nor could the dog get out.
He was about to shrug it off as a figment of his imagination and it had just been one of those times where you randomly wake up in the middle of the night for no reason, when there was suddenly a small cry from Mac's bedroom which was right across the hall.
"D-dad-dy!" the toddler sobbed out for him. It didn't take anything more than that before he was up out of bed and racing across the hall.
The first thing that hit him was the smell. He recognized it immediately as the sour, volatile smell of vomit. The next thing that he realized was that Mac was sitting in bed, scrubbing at his eyes. Without a moment's hesitation, Jack hurried over to his bed and pulled the rail down. He refrained from wrinkling his nose at the sight of the vomit. The poor toddler had thrown up all over his bed covers. Of course, it hadn't been his fault, Jack just really didn't like the smell of vomit.
"Aww, it's alright Little Buckaroo," Jack murmured. He silently cursed though. They had hoped that he would escape the wave of illness without getting sick, but for some reason, luck just wasn't ever on Mac's side.
He lifted the small boy out of the bed, careful to not get any of the vomit that was down the front of the blond's shirt on his own. He hummed softly as the small boy cried in an attempt to calm him. Thankfully, he had taken care of a sick Riley enough times to know what exactly needed to be done in caring for a sick child.
With one arm, he managed to get a fresh pair of pjs out of Mac's dresser. Mac mewled miserably against Jack's chest, the heat from his fever traveling all the way through his clothes. This scared Jack more than anything. He remembered what a fevered Mac had been like in the hospital and how the little boy almost hadn't made it. He obviously knew that this was different, it was only a stomach bug, but that didn't mean it didn't have Jack having flashbacks.
"You're okay," Jack whispered kissing his temple as he carried him into the bathroom. He stood Mac on the toilet seat and stripped off his pajamas down to his pull-up. Now he could feel how truly hot he really was. Before putting the clean ones on, he stepped over to the medicine cabinet and pulled the thermometer and fever medicine out.
For once, the thermometer didn't even trigger Mac's gag reflex. The boy just stood there with it in his mouth, slumped over against Jack's chest. When the device beeped, he pulled it away and read the number. 101.6. That was not at all good. If it rose any higher, Jack would have no choice but to take him to the ER.
"Alright buddy, I know it's gonna taste yucky, but I need you to open up for me," Jack said softly, measuring out the correct dosage of medicine. Mac didn't even protest as Jack gently opened the half-asleep little boy's mouth and got him to swallow the medicine. Mac only coughed at the taste weakly before whimpering and curling back up against Jack.
"I know you're tired, but I gotta get ya in fresh pjs first. You can sleep as long as you want afterwards," Jack murmured. He made quick work of getting him changed before carrying him back into the hall. He opted for his own room rather than the toddler's now-reeking one. The minute Mac was put down into the king bed, he curled up and was immediately back to sleep. Jack sighed and ran a quick hand through his hair and then set out to gather supplies.
First, he stopped in Mac's room and peeled off his soiled sheets, managing to wrinkle his nose only slightly in disgust. After popping them in the washer, he grabbed a bucket, a bowl of cool water, a few rags, the thermometer, a glass of water, and a small glass of blue Gatorade. He brought his entire load back to the master bedroom, placed the bucket on the ground just in case, and the rest on the bedside table.
With care that no one would have ever believed the ex-Delta was capable of, he wiped a cloth drenched with the cool water across Mac's feverish forehead. The tot whimpered and tried to curl away from the sudden cold with a shiver running down his spine, but Jack gently cupped his cheek and held him while he placed the wet rag on his skin.
"You're okay, Trooper. It's gonna help ya. Hush now, you'll be alright," he cooed softly, trying to channel his inner Diane. Boy did he wish she were here. Not that he minded taking care of his little boy, it was just that Diane was much more experienced when it came to anything to do with illness. It seemed like she always knew exactly what to do in any situation.
Jack, on the other hand, did not. Sure, he was prepared to run ten miles or get into a firefight, but this was almost graver. Yeah, he had taken care of a sick Riley, but that didn't mean that he wasn't nervous every time she so much as sneezed. Heck, the first time she had gotten sick when she was a baby, Jack had been terrified. With Mac being so innocent and seemingly fragile though, this was almost worse.
The Texan carefully crawled into bed next to Mac as not to disturb him, but the little boy was having none of the distance between them. He automatically curled against his father, a soft woosh of air against Jack's t-shirt letting the older man know he had once again fallen asleep.
Jack couldn't help but smile, despite Mac not feeling well. The toddler was just too adorable. Once it was clear that Mac was going to be asleep for at least a little while longer, Jack let his eyes droop close. He was an extremely light sleeper as it was, but with a sick little boy right next to him, he almost quite literally slept with one eye open.
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Of course, the comfortable sleep only lasted a total of one hour and forty-three minutes. Jack was once again jolted out of his sleep, though this time significantly more alert, by a stirring Mac beside him. The little boy had shot up in bed and was now looking suspiciously green in the lamp light.
"Bucket," Jack said automatically. When Mac didn't seem to understand what he was talking about, Jack hurriedly grabbed the bucket up from Mac's side of the bed and placed it under the boy's chin just in time. Mac gagged and expelled what little was left in his stomach. The whole time Jack held his medium-length hair and rubbed his back with the other hand, whispering comforting words in the blond's ear.
After everything was out of his stomach, he dry-heaved a few times and then collapsed into a fit of coughs. His small face turned tomato red and screwed up in discomfort. Jack grabbed the glass of water off of the nightstand and waited until the coughs died down to bring the glass to his lips. Mac began to gulp the water, and as bad as it made him feel, Jack pulled the glass away from his lips.
"Small sips, kiddo," Jack whispered when Mac cried pitifully, "You'll make yourself sicker if ya gulp it like that."
He held the water back up to the toddler's lips and helped him to sip the liquid that would help to sooth his raw throat. Mac cried against his father's chest and gasped for air. Jack patted his back and tried to soothe the once again red-faced little boy.
"Calm down, buddy. I need you to calm down before you make this worse," Jack said softly. Mac nodded minutely and tried to curl into himself. Jack sighed and ran a hand through his short-cropped hair. He gently picked Mac up as to not jostle him and make his nausea any worse and carried him to his room where he grabbed the boy's giraffe and hippo and carried him down to the living room. There was no use in trying to get anymore sleep tonight.
Mac whined into the couch pillow and curled under the crochet blanket, made by Jack's mama, that the said man had draped over him. This was not at all like the normal Mac. The boy was never this clingy, and he would die before he whined or complained about something. This just showed Jack how horrible he felt.
Jack then retreated back to the room to pick up the rest of their supplies. The bucket was once again placed by the couch and all of the supplies dumped on to the coffee table. Jack flicked on the TV to some mind-numbing show that was only on at four in the morning and turned the volume down. He had it on mostly for background noise, considering most of his attention would be on the sleeping boy next to him, who was once again shivering from the cool cloth on his forehead. Jack rubbed his back softly and turned his eyes to the TV.
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Mac actually managed to sleep on the couch until 6:30. Jack definitely hadn't let his eyes droop close for a few minutes here and there, but it hadn't mattered. If Mac had really needed him, Jack would have been awake in an instant. At some point in the two-and-a-half-hour stretch, Archie had made his way into the living room and had made himself at home smushed between Jack's side and Mac's feet. The dog wasn't much to look at in Jack's opinion, but he was the sweetest thing since rock candy (Casey's words, not their's).
Mac popped his head up from underneath his blanket cocoon. His eyes were still glazed and half-closed, his skin was imitating the color of a piece of paper, his cheeks were bright red with fever, and his usually tame blond hair stuck up in all directions, but Jack had never seen a little boy more adorable.
"Mornin', Little Buckaroo! How ya feelin'?" Jack asked kindly. Mac shook his head miserably and buried his head against Jack's chest. The older man put his hand against the boy's forehead. His fever hadn't changed from what Jack could tell. Why did Mac have such terrible luck when it came to fevers? It seemed that Mac just physically couldn't do anything half-way.
"I think it's time for more medicine," Jack said. Without moving Mac, he reached over to the coffee table and poured out the dosage. This time, Mac whined a bit in protest at the foul-tasting liquid, but Jack did eventually coax it down his throat with a sip of Gatorade.
"Are ya feelin' up to somethin' little to eat? Ya haven't thrown up in a while and it might help your stomach," Jack questioned softly.
"N-no food," Mac murmured. Jack kissed his forehead and let it go, but he vowed that he would get Mac to eat something later. Diane would have his head when she got home if he didn't.
"Where momma?" Mac questioned. Jack winced. Mac knew that Diane wasn't home. The fact that he was asking where she was either meant that he was feeling extra clingy or the fever was causing him to be confused. He really hoped it was the former.
"She's away buddy. You know that. She's not going to be home for a couple more days."
A single tear rolled down the toddler's red cheek. "Want momma," he whispered. Jack rubbed a hand over his belly in attempt to both soothe his nausea and calm him down.
"I know you do," was all he could think to say. He checked the grandfather clock across the room before quickly determining that Diane should be up. Even if she wasn't, he knew that a call from a sick Mac would surely get her out of bed.
"Why don't we call her?" he suggested. This was enough to get Mac perked up to the point where he actually lifted his head and looked around.
"Momma?"
"Yeah, we'll call momma, buddy," Jack soothed. He pulled out his new phone, courtesy of Mac "investigating" the old one, and called Diane. He put it on speaker phone and it only took two rings for her to pick up.
"Hey, what's going on?"
"I only call you and you immediately assume that somethin's wrong?" Jack demanded playfully. He could hear Diane shuffling around on the other end and the sound of a suitcase zipper opening. She had definitely already been up.
"It's your day off and you like to try and get as much sleep as you can. You wouldn't be calling me at ten 'til seven if something weren't up."
"Fair enough," Jack surrendered. Finally, Mac couldn't hold back his anticipation anymore. "Hi momma!" he squeaked, though with less passion than he usually would have.
"Hey baby! What are you doing up this early?" Diane wondered. Jack could here the genuine surprise and concern in her voice. No doubt she could here the difference in Mac's voice.
"Someone's not feelin' good and wanted to call momma," Jack explained.
"My poor baby! What kind of sick are you feeling honey?"
"My tummy feels yucky and I have a fevew. Daddy teeps making me take yucky medcine. I don't feel tood," the toddler admitted.
"Well, you make sure you rest up and listen to daddy, mister. I love you and I'll be home as soon as I can. I'm so glad you called," Diane said brightly, making an exaggerated kissing noise on the other end. Mac returned the favor with a noise of his own (though his may have sounded as if he were smacking his lips) and an "I wove 'ou momma."
"Put daddy on the phone for me, will you?"
Jack ruffled Mac's hair softly and turned the speaker phone off. "Hey, what's up?"
"How is he, really? Jack, I need to know. If he's really sick, I can come home early. Does he need to go to the ER?"
"Nah, I think he'll be alright. You leavin' early isn't goin' to help nothin'. Just stay at the conference and be the smart doctor I know. I got everything covered here. It's just a stomach bug," Jack explained, stroking the golden locks that were now using Archie as a pillow. The dog didn't seem to mind though, if his tail thumping the side of the couch was anything to go by.
"Alright but call me immediately if anything changes. I mean it, Jack. If his fever gets above 102.4, you need to take him to the ER. You've got to make sure he stays hydrated and please get him to eat something if you can later on," Diane ranted.
"Calm down, honey. I've everythin' handled. You don't need to worry about him, darlin'," Jack reassured her.
Diane sighed, "I wish I were there."
"I'm sure he does too, but he'll be fine. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of him."
"I know. Give him my love. I've got to go, bye," she said before hurriedly clicking off. Jack knew she was starting to tear up and hadn't wanted to start crying on the phone. It was all the same though, Mac had kicked off his blankets, but was now shivering once again.
Jack reached down and took Mac's clammy hand. He pulled the blanket back up over the boy. "No," he whined, "doo hot, daddy!"
Jack shook his head and squeezed the boy's hand. His mama had always said the best way to get rid of a fever was to sweat it out of them and she had never steered him wrong before. He planned to do everything he remembered his mama doing for him as a little boy.
"I know you're hot, buddy, but it'll help, I promise," Jack murmured. He expected to here a question as to how being hot could possibly help a fever, but instead, he was met with silence. With a quick glance towards the couch, he found Mac once again sound asleep.
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Mac woke up briefly about a half hour later, long enough for him to puke up what little liquid he had in him. He then proceeded to collapse back to the couch and fall right back to sleep against Jack. The ex-Delta wasn't fairing too well either. He hated seeing either of his kids sick; it always made him feel so helpless. At work, he was usually in complete control of what happened, but when it came to his sick two-year-old, there was absolutely nothing he could do.
Mac then managed to sleep for a whole two-and-a-half-hours. He hardly even moved let alone wake up. When he finally did, Jack once again took his temperature and found it had dropped a tiny bit. It still wasn't even under 101, but it was better than nothing.
Jack noticed the sweat sticking to the boy's forehead. The last time Riley had gotten sick, he had given her a warm bath to both help with the fever and to wash away the sticky sweat. Diane had made sure it was a warm bath and not a cold bath. She had said although a cold bath may seem like a good idea, it lowered the body temperature too quickly and caused shivering, which actually increased body temperatures.
Jack approached the boy and kneeled in front of him. "Do you want a bath, Little Buckaroo? It will help you feel better."
Mac nodded feebly and reached for Jack. The man was pretty sure Mac's feet hadn't touched the ground since he had thrown up at two this morning, but he was okay with it. If Mac wanted to be a normal toddler, ask for help, and cling to his father, then he was okay with that, especially while he wasn't feeling well.
Jack carried him to the bathroom and drew him a nice warm bath before stripping him and placing him carefully in the tub. He took extra care while running the soft washcloth over his fevered skin, knowing from first-hand experience the way every molecule in your skin hurt when you were sick. If Mac noticed the pain, he didn't acknowledge it. For once, he wasn't playing with any of his ducks or toy boats, but instead leaning against Jack, still half-asleep. When he began to shiver, Jack pulled him out of the bath and wrapped him in his towel with the frog hood.
Eventually, Jack had gotten him back into his pjs, another dose of fever meds in him, a whole glass of Gatorade gone, and back on the couch, though awake and watching Paw Patrol.
"Would ya like somethin' to eat now?" Jack inquired. Mac shook his head. "Tan't be sick."
Jack sat down beside him and placed a firm hand on his back. "I'd really like it if you'd eat somethin'. I'm gonna go make you some broth. I'll be happy if you only eat a few bites. Can you do that for me?" Mac seemed to contemplate it a moment before nodding and snuggling down into the couch. Jack smiled at his success and got up to make the soup.
When it was finished, he brought it into the boy and spooned him up some. Mac hesitantly slurped it down plus three more bites after that before he called it quits. Jack was okay with that. At least there was something in his stomach besides Gatorade and fever medicine.
Two more episodes of Paw Patrol later, and Mac was back to sleep. It wouldn't be until he woke up a few hours later, a blanket soaked with sweat surrounding him, that Jack would reach down to feel his forehead and smile that his fever had broken. It also wouldn't be until after that that Jack thanked God that it hadn't been like last time.
There it was. Sorry for the delay, but school started back up and I've already got tons of work. Because of that, updates may be more sporadic and less frequent, but I will continue to work as hard as I can in any of my free time. I really hope you enjoyed this! Bye for now!